


Christmas Miracle

by doridoripawaa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Mistletoe, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doridoripawaa/pseuds/doridoripawaa
Summary: Hilda needs nothing short of a miracle for her wish to come true at the Christmas party.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	Christmas Miracle

Hilda Valentine Goneril was  _ not  _ feeling very merry this evening.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas," she muttered as she dipped her finger into her glass of wine and began to swirl it around, making small ripples across the surface. "But what I  _ do  _ want," she continued, and a soft sigh escaped her plump, polished lips, "is way too difficult to get!"

The gentle pat on the back from her best friend was probably meant to console her, but Hilda found herself gritting her teeth and groaning as soon as she felt Marianne's hand. "I don't want pity," she went on, and now she protruded her lower lip into a pout. "I want…" She finally lifted her gaze from her wine's maroon surface and let it wander to a familiar head of sky blue hair. 

Hilda sighed again and lifted her glass to take a long, deep swig.

"No no, no more wine for you," Marianne chided her gently, and she interjected her hand to stop the goblet in its tracks. "Hilda…" She trailed off uncomfortably, and her eyes began to flicker towards the ground. 

"Marianne, what did I tell you?" Now it was Hilda's turn to raise her eyebrows and crack a small smile. "You can be blunt with me. Tell me how you feel, girl."

Marianne blinked gratefully at her friend and took a deep breath. "Well," she murmured, and she began to twirl a loose strand of powder blue hair around her fingertip. "Why don't you just… talk to him?"

Hilda lifted the glass again.

"N-no!" The soft-spoken young woman was surprisingly stern as she cut off the path from the goblet to Hilda's lips once again. "I know it isn't easy," she continued, her voice heavy with sympathy and sorrow, "but it's far better than staring wistfully across the room like this and making yourself miserable." She pressed her index fingers together sheepishly. "I… I want you to be happy, Hilda."

A deep pang of regret struck the pink-haired woman directly in the chest. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her best friend, but Marianne was… slightly naive regarding matters of the heart. "We can't all be lucky enough to fall for someone perceptive," she pointed out. "Er… that sounded a little harsh, huh? Sorry, Mari." Gingerly she placed her glass down on the table and reached over to grab Marianne's hand. "I just… You and Dimitri are kindred spirits. I don't have that kind of connection with him." She gave Marianne's hand a little squeeze. She didn't have it, but by Sothis, did she  _ want  _ it.

"He is… dense," Marianne agreed awkwardly, and she interlaced her fingers with Hilda's. "But if we work together, maybe we can find a way to make your Christmas magical."

When did Marianne become so optimistic? "You're right," Hilda murmured, and she nodded slowly as thoughts and ideas began to race through her mind. "We can figure this out! I'll just have to trick him, lure him, give him an opportunity he can't resist!" 

"Up to no good again, Hilda?" A warm, albeit worn-out, voice, boomed from behind Marianne. A thick, sturdy hand rested atop the blue-haired woman's shoulder. Dimitri towered over the seated Marianne, and he leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead, prompting a flurry of giggles. He then straightened up and turned his glittering gaze onto Hilda. Even though he only had one good eye, the storm in those azure depths already told Hilda everything she needed to know: He was teasing, but he was also suspicious. "You have been spending a little too much time with Claude." Dimitri had worked hard to be more upfront with his emotions as of late, perhaps due to Marianne's influence. They truly brought out the best in each other. 

Would Hilda and the object of her affections be the same? Right now, he was only bringing out what could easily become a nasty drinking habit.

"You know I don't put that much work into anything," Hilda told him with a dismissive wave of her hand. She flicked her high ponytail behind her shoulder and then slid her wine glass across the table. "I'm just a delicate flower, after all." Mischief sparkled in her carnation-colored eyes as she suddenly grabbed Marianne's hand and began to pull her away. "But tonight, I need this wallflower! I'm borrowing your girlfriend, Dimitri! Merry Christmas!"

The blond hardly had time to even wave goodbye before Hilda and Marianne scampered away, scheming.

Operation Capture Caspar was a go.

* * *

Plan A: Dancing.

"Who doesn't want to dance at a party?" Hilda rationalized. Sure, the music was all holiday tunes and nothing she could really grind to, but she could rock around the Christmas tree if she really needed to do so. Candidly, the slow pace of some of the ballads provided the perfect opportunity for couples to mosey around and sway together. Once she put her hands on his shoulders and he was holding her slender (but strong-- she didn't skip her ab workouts) waist, they would fall into a rhythm and he wouldn't be able to resist pecking her perfectly painted lips! 

"Where did he go?" Marianne murmured behind her as they peered out from their positions near the wall. 

"Aha!" Hilda nodded her head in the direction of their target: an oblivious but adorable young man who was excitedly telling a story to his former classmates. Linhardt seemed to be sleeping through it, but Petra at least looked mildly engaged. "Okay, you go snag Dimitri so we aren't the only ones dancing."

Marianne's face flushed a deep crimson. "Th-that was part of the plan?" she stammered. 

Hilda didn't bother to reply before taking off, her chin held high and her shoulders pushed back. In her heels, she was still shorter than Caspar, but maybe she could make up for it with her perfectly poised posture.

"So then I punched it in the nose!" Caspar exclaimed, and he demonstrated with a quick jab to the air in front of him. "No alligator can handle that kind of blow! And then -- oh, hey Hilda!" His eyes lit up and he waved enthusiastically at her. "Did ya come to hear about the time I saved one of the campus cats from an alligator?"

Hilda lifted a hand to her mouth as she giggled. "Oh, I bet you were so brave," she cooed. "You have the best moves, too."

A flash of fire spread across Caspar's cheeks.

Check.

"Y-you really think so?" he asked, and he rubbed his hand behind his head sheepishly. "I mean, yeah! Of course I do!" He puffed out his chest proudly, earning a small snicker from Dorothea. (Thankfully for the songstress, Caspar was so caught up in the praise that he didn't even notice.)

Out of the corner of her eye, Hilda spotted a familiar blond giant and his petite princess begin to sway back and forth in each other's arms. The stage was set. "Hey, Caspar?" Hilda began carefully, and she batted her thick eyelashes at him. "Want to show me some of those moves?" 

The blue-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "I already did," he stated bluntly. "Did you miss it?" He turned and lowered himself into a fighting stance, and then he pulled back his arm to deliver a quick punch to the air once again. "Bam! Right in the nose! He let go of Gonerilon's tail in an instant!"

Hilda bit her lip suggestively, simultaneously hoping to entice him and trying to swallow back a sigh. "So impressive," she murmured, and she cleared her throat. Try again. "I bet you have great coordination."

Caspar folded his arms across his chest proudly. "Of course I do," he announced. "I am great at martial arts, fencing, dancing, and now even alligator wrestling!"

Bingo.

"Dancing?" Hilda pressed. "No way!" She gasped in fake astonishment. "I would've thought you had two left feet."

The young man's mouth settled into a frown. "No way! I can slide, shuffle, skip…"

She had to act fast before he got sidetracked. "I'd love to see," she crowed, and she batted her eyelashes at him again before extending her hand. She made a point to flash her scarlet nails at him before asking, "Care to demonstrate?"

Whether he was eager to show off, to prove himself, or to just release his bundles of energy, Hilda couldn't be sure. But Caspar grabbed her hand excitedly and began to tug her out towards the center of the room. "Catch you guys later!" he called to his former classmates, waving as he pulled away. Petra waved back, Linhardt finally lifted his head to just nod, and Dorothea…

Did the brunette just  _ wink  _ at her? She was perhaps too coy for her own good.

What else could Hilda do but wink back?

Finally Caspar screeched to a halt and let go of Hilda's hand. "What should I do first?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can disco! I can chop the vegetables. I can do the butter churn!"

Hilda prayed to Sothis that Caspar was too oblivious to notice how intensely she cringed. "I was hoping you could show me more of a… a waltz," she suggested. "Maybe a tango."

"Oh." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as if mulling over her suggestion.

"Don't Marianne and Dimitri look sweet?" Hilda prompted, tipping her head in the couple's direction. "Can't the mighty Caspar handle slow dances too?"

The feisty young man balled his hands into fists and pounded his chest. "Of course I can!" he scoffed. "I just… I prefer not to." He wrinkled his nose as he watched Dimitri lower Marianne into a dip before scooping her back up again. "I can teach you the electric slide! You don't have to work too hard for that one," he added, chuckling softly. "I wouldn't want to work ya too hard, Hilda."

'You're making me work  _ very  _ hard,' Hilda thought bitterly, but she bit her lip again to keep her comments to herself. "Fine," she sighed in resignation. "Lead me, Caspar."

She was going to need another glass of wine.

* * *

Plan B: Sharing Snacks.

Perhaps Hilda needed to spend more time training in cardio. Weightlifting was her workout of choice, but after trying to keep up with Caspar's erratic movements on the dance floor, the young woman was absolutely winded.

"Say, Caspar," she panted. "Why don't we rest for a minute?" How could she convince him to let up? 

More importantly, how could she convince him to kiss her on this special night?

"Oh, right. You're kind of delicate, aren't you, Hilda?" Caspar lowered his arms down to his sides and stopped shuffling his feet. "Do you need a drink? Maybe a snack?" 

A snack. 

Hilda hoped Caspar wouldn't notice the glimmer in her eyes as an idea suddenly struck her.

"I would love that," she breathed, and she extended her hand out to him. "Lead me over, would you?"

Caspar looked quizzically down at her hand. "You're shaking," he observed. "You really must be dehydrated!" His gaze flickered around the room until it came to rest on a large card table pressed up near the wall. "I found the buffet!" he cried, and he pointed at the table triumphantly. "Let's get you over there ASAP!"

As Caspar took off, Hilda's hands balled into fists and she pulled them in to her chest. "When you see a young maiden  _ trembling _ ," she muttered bitterly, "you grab her by the hand and support her!" She wanted to be angry at him, but deep down, she knew she couldn't bring herself to criticize him too harshly. His heart was in the right place; after all, he had conjured the idea to fetch snacks, and he quickly noticed that she was dehydrated.

Maybe he was an idiot when it came to romance, but he had a heart of gold and had his own wisdom of the world.

Hilda finally dragged her feet over to the snack table, where Caspar stood energetically waving her over. "Check out everything they've got!" he exclaimed, and he began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet. "Chips, cookies, pretzels, nuts, candy, soda…" He wrinkled his nose as he spotted an empty tray. "Hey Raph, what was here?" he asked.

The large young man peered over at the plate curiously, and he didn't even bother to swallow his puff pastry before splattering, "Cheese cubes." He scratched his head of curly blond hair before exclaiming, "Oh! Dimitri came over not too long ago."

_ That  _ explained the absence of charcuterie.

"What would you like, Hilda?" Caspar asked as he poured himself a cup of punch. "You still look shaky, so I'll get it for you."

Maybe he wasn't totally hopeless.

Hilda's pink gaze scanned the table, trying to find something that appealed to her. Caspar was elbow-deep in the bowl of tortilla chips, so that was a hard pass. She probably should have some punch as well, in order to hydrate. Maybe…

Maybe she could sneak a sip from Caspar's cup.

"Punch sounds delicious," she cooed. "But I don't think I want a whole cup to myself." She exhaled loudly in an overdramatic sigh. "Caspar, could I…" As she dreamily turned her gaze onto the energetic boy, she felt her heart drop into her stomach. His head was tilted back and his cup pressed against his lips as he slurped down the last of his drink, leaving not even a single drop. "... have some punch?" she finished in a monotone voice, barely suppressing a disappointed sigh. She couldn't even get an  _ indirect  _ kiss from this dense brick wall! This irresistibly kind, brash, warm, headstrong, just, and adorable brick wall.

At least he was happy to oblige. "Of course!" He picked up a fresh glass and scooped her some punch. "Here you go!" he chirped, thrusting the cup in her direction with a beaming grin on his face.

By the goddess, this boy was going to be the death of her!

"Do you want anything to eat, too?" he offered. "Protein is good after exercising, but so are carbs. Hey Raph, is there any pepperoni or salami or anything at this table? Maybe a banana for some potassium?"

Pepperoni. Salami. Banana.

Yeah, that's exactly what Hilda wanted.

"H-how about we share something?" she suggested. "I'm not hungry enough for an entire snack."

Caspar cocked an eyebrow at her. "These are bite-sized," he pointed out. "They're made for individual servings." Suddenly fear flashed across his face, and he stepped forward so that his chest was pressed up against Hilda's and his eyes were staring down directly into hers.

Could she blame her beet-red face on her sweating from dancing? Could she excuse her rapid heartbeat as adrenaline from exercising? Could she dismiss her ragged, rapid breathing as exhaustion?

Caspar didn't ask about any of these things, however. Instead, he just pressed the back of his hand against Hilda's forehead. His eyes grew wide as aquamarine jewels and he leaped backward as he muttered, "Goddess, Hilda! You're sweating! Do you have a fever?"

"I'm fine!" Hilda insisted, and she rubbed her forehead clear of the sweat that was starting to bead beneath her bangs. "I'm just… I'm not very hungry."

Caspar glowered at her before turning back to the table. "Well, I'm hungry," he mumbled. "Let's just rest for a few minutes before dancing again, okay?" Was he skeptical? He at least seemed to care about her wellbeing; otherwise he would have insisted that they dash back out to dance. He at least seemed to be interested in spending time with her; otherwise he would have run back to his former classmates.

Maybe not all hope was lost.

"Actually," she began cautiously, and she felt a rush of heat flare across her face as Caspar turned his attention away from the guacamole and back onto Hilda. "What kind of sweets are here? I love sweets."

Caspar's eyes sparkled and he stretched his arm out to the table to gesture at the broad display. "Definitely grab a treat!" he encouraged her. "I see cookies, chocolate, brownies, candy canes…"

He continued to rattle off the list, but Hilda had already honed in on her target. "A candy cane sounds nice," she murmured. "Want to share it with me?"

Caspar plucked a large peppermint cane from a vase on the table. "Huh? But if we break it in half, then it isn't a candy  _ cane  _ any more." He looked down sadly at the striped snack. "Then it's just a candy stick."

"Then we don't have to break it," Hilda whispered. "You take one side and I'll take the other."

Caspar shook his head of short sky blue hair and handed the cane over to Hilda. "Nah. I'm not gonna take it from you. We have enough candy canes here for us each to have our own!"

Hilda begrudgingly accepted the candy cane, and with a sigh she began to unwrap it. "You sure you don't want to share?" she pressed.

Judging from the fact that Caspar was already slurping on his own pair of candy canes, he wasn't about to accept her offer. "Look, Hilda!" he cried. "I'm a walrus!"

He may have been the walrus, but she was the one who was about to become a blubbering mess.

* * *

Plan C: Find Claude.

Hilda bit down hard on the final curve of her candy cane, relishing the crunch and the cool wave of mint that flooded her senses. At least she'd get a sweet taste of candy tonight, if not a sweet smooch from Caspar.

She side-eyed the object of her affections, who was currently eagerly exchanging stories of adventures and escapades with Raphael, who watched with wide eyes as he munched on popcorn chicken bites. This would be the perfect time for her to sneak away, consult with Marianne, and conjure up a new plan. However, the gentle girl was unlikely to have any ideas that would be manipulative enough to lure in Caspar, as oblivious as he was.

But then she spotted an old friend slipping into the adjacent hallway--probably en route to the restroom--and she perked up immediately. How did she not think to ask him for aid in the first place? Sly, sneaky, smart, sarcastic, and surprisingly smooth: Claude von Reigan was the most mischievous person she knew. He also happened to be her best friend.

"Claude!" she called out as his dark brown braid disappeared behind the wall. She was too late! "Claude!" she cried again, and she straightened up to begin to scurry after him. Having had a snack and some punch, she had just enough energy to pursue him, but running wasn't exactly her forte.

In hindsight, she probably should have tried running in these heels  _ before  _ wearing them to the Christmas party. She didn't have time to reflect on her mistake before she stumbled and tripped on the leg of a chair, though, and began to hurtle downward.

"Hilda!"

Blindly she reached for something to stabilize her. With a loud groan she fell into a sturdy embrace, and she gasped aloud as she felt the mysterious pair of arms tighten around her and pull her in towards a thick, strong chest.

A warm chest.

A chest that boomed loudly against her ear with the sound of an erratic heartbeat.

Marianne's arms were thin. Claude's arms were hairy. These arms…

Hilda tilted her head back and found herself lost in the sea of Caspar's blue eyes.

"I thought you were feeling better," he whispered. Did his voice just  _ crack _ ? Was he that worried about her? "I knew candy wasn't enough of a snack! Let's get you some protein, okay?" He began to stand up, but Hilda reached out and grabbed hold of his arm to yank him back down. "H-Hilda?" he stammered.

Hilda lowered her head and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent. It was a little sweaty, but also very sweet. "I… I can't stand yet," she murmured. "Let me just sit here for another moment, okay?" Sit and just relish in his warmth, his strength, his security. 

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his hand travel up her back and up to the base of her ponytail, and as he ran his fingers gently through her hair. "You scared me, Hilda," he breathed. "And… nothing really scares me that much."

She had to pull away now; if her heart pounded any harder, it would leap right out of her body. Carefully she began to rise onto her feet, and much to her delight, Caspar rose along with her, moving at her pace. "Let me rest on something," she murmured. Caspar nodded obediently and held onto her as they shuffled toward the nearest wall. Hilda collapsed onto the archway of the door that led into the adjacent hallway. Maybe now she could catch Claude on his way back into the main room.

"I'm gonna get you something else to eat, okay?" Caspar told her. "I'll be back as soon as… Hey! Look at that!"

Hilda followed his excitedly pointing finger to see what exactly had caught his attention. A small cluster of plant life was dangling from the top of the archway, held together by a single red ribbon.

"Mistletoe," she breathed.

"Mistletoe," Caspar repeated. "It's really pretty." He then furrowed his brow and turned to look at Hilda curiously. "Wait. Isn't that the kissing plant?"

She prayed that Caspar wouldn't notice just how red her face turned. "Uh, yeah," she murmured, and she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder as nonchalantly as she could. She needed to play this off. "They say if two people are standing under a mistletoe together, they're supposed to kiss, but that's kind of--"

A little cheesy.

A little minty.

A little salty.

A little sweet.

Caspar was an odd fellow with an odd flavor, but the passion with which he pressed his lips against Hilda's was, without a doubt, delicious.

Hilda pressed back against him with all her might, hoping to convey everything she had felt that night. Frustration. Despair. Yearning. Enthusiasm. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

As suddenly as it had begun, the kiss came to an end. Caspar stepped back and planted his hands on his hips triumphantly. "Take that, mistletoe!" he scoffed. "I don't back down from any challenge." His fingertips then traveled up to his lips and rested against their (slightly glossy) surface gently. "And neither does Hilda. You're really good at kissing, you know!"

Did he have  _ any  _ idea of what he did to her?

"I can do even better," she murmured coyly, and she batted her eyelashes at him for the third time that evening. "Want me to prove it?"

Her Christmas wish had finally come true.

  
  
  
  



End file.
